The Hangover Cure
by BlankAce
Summary: After a fight with Arthur, Merlin finally makes good use of the tavern excuse. Merlin and his new friend are on a drunken adventure to find a hangover cure, leaving a bizarre trail of events in their wake. Meanwhile Arthur, Gwaine, a helpful stranger, and a pink chicken are following their trail. Hopefully they get to him before he inevitably finds himself in trouble.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **Somewhere, Morning**

* * *

There may come a point in your life where you look back and wonder how the hell you got there.

This was that moment for Merlin. One of many to come. Though this moment was a pretty literal one, he really had no idea where he was.

He was stood in a forest. Dawns light was filtering through a haphazard mass of trees and bushes. He could barely see the melted colours of the sunrise sky through the green of the canopy. The suns brightest rays nor the wind that howled faintly in the distance had been able to penetrate the lush forest. It was eerie and peaceful wrapped into one disorienting bundle.

Merlin stood in a little clearing. He was dishevelled and more then a little confused. More then a lot confused too, actually. The confusion wasn't from the weird surroundings that he was having his surprise moment of lucidity, dare he say sanity, in. No, there were a few other peculiarities that stood out even more.

For starters he was missing both his socks, but only his left shoe, and his shoeless foot was bound in a red cloth bandage. He didn't feel any pain so he figured the bandage was more a makeshift sock then an actual bandage. His shoe was his own, albeit a little dirtier then when he last remembered wearing it. Which was the day before, concerning, but at least the shoe was his.

'His' shirt wasn't actually his. It certainly wasn't something he could afford either. It was coal black with silver thread laced around both a V-neck collar and the two v-slits cut into opposite sides of the bottom of the shirt. The shirt was a bit long for him but the slits in the side still went high enough to show off his hip, closing just under his first rib. His breeches, thankfully, were his own well worn brown ones. He had his own blue neckerchief as well. The fabric around his neck a comfort in the strangeness.

"Are you ready?" A voice asked from above. _Dion_. The man sat on a large tree branch above him. His green eyes looking down at Merlin with less rationality then Merlin felt. His appearance was as strange as Merlin's. He wasn't wearing shoes, and his socks had been discoloured by the dirt of the forest floor. His shirt was inside out, though Merlin wasn't sure if he should just assume it was Dion's shirt. His hands held him steady where he sat and were stained a bright and obvious pink. The dye reached his elbows and some splattered even further.

Merlin glanced down at his own hands to find them similarly stained.

"Yeah I's uh ready." Merlin said, finally answering the earlier question. He looked up to the blonde man and asked politely. "What s'it we doin again?" He was slurring bad, though he was genuinely confused as why he suddenly developed a slur.

"Treasure hunt my friend," was the honest reply. Merlin nodded solemnly like it made sense to him. Somewhere in his muddled memories the notion of a treasure hunt did make sense. Another part of him said that he had agreed to this earlier. He hoped he had been in a more 'smart-decision-making' state at that time.

"Your weapons courageous adventurer." Dion said, sliding ungracefully from his perch. He took a step towards Merlin, then an unsteady step right, then a surer step forward again. He reeked like alcohol. It occurred to Merlin that he might be drunk too. He didn't step forward to test the theory though.

Dion reached his hands out, then with a quick chant and a flourish of his wrist weapons began to solidify in Merlin's neon pink hands. _Magic._ Yes, Merlin had to remind himself, Dion had magic.

His weapons were a knife and a sword, which would have been fine except for two things. One, the knife was referred to in respectable society as _The Butter Knife_. And two, his sword, though obviously sharp and well polished, was broken off about halfway up.

Dion looked him up and down appraisingly, seemingly satisfied with his handiwork. Merlin looked at Dion's weapons. A dented crossbow and a quiver full of bolts missing their fine feathers or that were visibly curved. He also had a butter knife, clipped to his hip in a bejewelled, leather butter knife sheathe. Not the weapons Merlin would have chosen for a dangerous treasure hunt.

"This is the best I could do!" Dion cried out acting as if Merlin had just offended him by thought alone. Maybe he had. "I'm not all powerful like you ya know! I can't go summoning the kings' armory. Any thing I wanna summon is broken or cheap. And last time I checked you ain't gonna be casting the spells 'cuase you can hardly speak." He ended his rant with a loud belch.

"'Course." Was the best thing Merlin could think to say. Though he wasn't sure that made sense. "I'm ready now." He managed _not_ to slur.

"Great!" Dion said, his earlier grumpiness forgotten. He hoisted his crossbow onto his shoulder. Then he started off into the woods. "We're reeeeeeeeady!"

"Ready!" Merlin cried thrusting his sword into the air and marching into the woods behind him. It wasn't hard to start a good giddy mood with two drunks.

They had gotten about 4 steps in when Dion stopped.

"I forgot!" He dropped his weapons to the ground and gestured for Merlin to do the same. As fast as the sound of metal against rock clipped through the air the men were holding two chipped and half empty tall mugs of a greenish liquid. It smelt like a mix of alcohol and herbs and even in his inebriated state Merlin could sense a faint hint of magic. Dion started drinking without a thought and Merlin followed in suit. When they were done the glasses disappeared and the took a hold of their weapons again.

"We gotta stay drunk Merlin. Else we'll get hungover before we get to the hangover cure; then this trip would be pointless."

 _Oh. Is that why we're doing this_? This was Merlin's last thought before his mind faded back into a state where his vibrant pink hands and bizarre appearance made total sense.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Camelot**

What woke Arthur was something truly unexpected. It wasn't pillow pulling, blanket snatching or heinous morning optimism. It was a soft footstep and the almost silent sound of plates being set against a wooden table. It wasn't Merlin.

He opened his eyes, staring at the sideways figure of a nervous servant. The young man fidgeted for a second, before setting down a goblet as well and giving a slight bow.

"I'm sorry m'lord, I didn't mean to wake you." With another hurried bow the servant took quick half steps towards the door.

"Wait." Arthur barked. The servant looked frightened and Arthur sighed and flashed him a quick prince like smile. "Where is Merlin?"

"He um, he, well, Sire. He quit. He came down to the servant's quarters and said that you wanted a new servant. I though you knew?"

Arthur sighed again. "He can't actually quit." _Could he?_ "Would you get me some clothes." He threw off his covers and stood up, he felt well rested. He wondered why it was such an unwelcome feeling. Though, honestly, he knew why.

Merlin.

He knew what he said was bad but, had he been wrong to think Merlin would just come back without him giving a proper apology?

Obviously he had.

 **A Day Earlier**

"Rise and shine, sunshine!" The familiar over bearing voice woke Arthur up from his sweet, sweet sleep. He ignored it.

He heard Merlin's footsteps stomping over to his bed. "It's a lovely day Arthur!" The servant said with a hint a mischief in his voice. Arthur grip tightened visibly on his pillow. Merlin paced off and clanking noises followed. "What have you been doing in here, it reeks like burnt herbs! Oh I swear, you spend more time asleep then you do learning how to rule your country you dollop head!"

Arthurs eyes snapped open. "I swear you spend more time at the tavern the more you're needed. Where were you last night, I wonder, when I sat through boring meetings with no fidgety servant to serve me." He hissed, steel in his voice.

Merlin glared back, "I wasn't at the tavern." It was true, he had spent the night trying to convince a renegade sorcerer that killing Arthur just wasn't worth it. He had gone to bed pleased with his persuasion ability. Now he was putting them to the test again.

"Merlin you don't need to lie about that! I already know." Merlin just looked on annoyed. Arthur had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, in the wrong bed, and on the wrong planet, it seemed. A mood that so rarely graced the prince that it turned Merlin's sour in mere seconds.

"I'm not lying Arthur! I do more then you think I do." Perhaps Merlin's persuasion wasn't all that good actually, and the still stinging bruise that covered his right side was proof of that. He hadn't slept well either, hardly slept at all, and Arthur was upset because he didn't have time to entertain him during some boring meeting.

The shared nasty mood was evident for both parties. Smart level-headed people would back away slowly and resolve to forget this ever happened. Smart-level headed people didn't get into these 'I'm in a bad mood, you're in a bad mood, you're the root of all my problems and I'm the root of all yours' type fights.

"More then I think you do! Merlin it's your job to scurry around quietly and, god forbid, _invisibly_ while catering to my every whim before I decide to whim it _!"_

"Oh, well that makes total sense _your highness_! I'd need to be a drunk or a sorcerer to be able to see your whims before you had them. OH, actually, wait, I already am a drunk."

When Merlin didn't end any more of his arguments with dollop head Arthur knew this fight had gone to far a long time ago. But he found he couldn't stop. Heat of the moment, pride, anger, Monday morning, more meetings waiting for him a few floors down, this is everything he would blame his words on.

"Merlin you're a totally useless servant. You can't do anything right and you spend so much time at the tavern I'm beginning to think that keeping you around will tarnish my name. A servant who knows his place is much more valuable then a servant who can't admit he's a drunk! You can either learn your place or you can sober up in the dungeon for a month. My father was right about you not being worth the risk to save." There was a pregnant pause as his words caught up with his brain. When Arthur realized what he said and bit his own tongue so hard he drew blood. He didn't go back on his words; he wasn't sure he could.

Merlin just stared, Arthur saw the hurt flicker across his pale eyes. Then pain, a cold and deep hurt that told Arthur he had gone too far.

"I quit."

"You can't quit."

"Fine, I'm going to spend the rest of my pay on ale and get so drunk that I die in an ally and you will be forever known as the prince whose servant got so drunk he couldn't tell his bed from a cobble road." The words tumbled out quickly and breathlessly. He wasn't shouting, he was talking, like what he was saying was perfectly normal Merlin thing. It wasn't, this whole fight really wasn't like either of them. It was strange. The heated mood had taken a hold of there surroundings so fast and disappeared so quickly it was like _magic_.

Merlin turned and stalked towards the door.

"Merlin wait." Arthur shouted, his voice tainted with an anger that was simply taking to long to fade. Merlin waited, hand resting on the door. "I'm-" He didn't finish, he couldn't. That wasn't something a prince said to his servant. Merlin wasn't just a servant though, Arthur wanted too say it but something was stopping him. Merlin still waited though, giving him a chance to build courage, or destroy some of his pride.

He hated how even after there worst fight ever Merlin could still read him like an open book. And he still had the patience and loyalty to wait. The moment passed, and his pride hadn't caved. Merlin let out a breath, a shaky one, and left the room.

Arthur slowly realised he had spent the entire fight lying in his bed and felt suddenly rather silly. And very, very sad.

 **Present Day**

"Why did I say that! Why did I say any of it?" Arthur was pacing the small confines of Gaius's chambers. Gaius watched him intently, listening too him as he explained what had happened the night before. "I wake up today and Merlin's still gone, you haven't seen him. You don't think he actually…" He didn't finish the thought let alone the sentence.

"If I may, Sire, the fight was uncharacteristic of the both of you. It is strange that you both grew so angry so quickly, Merlin certainly does not have a quick temper. Perhaps sorcery could be involved? And Sire, have no worry of Merlin getting that drunk, he would have stumbled home giggling and completely ignorant of the reason he went out in the first place before he was drunk enough to do anything remotely stupid," he paused. "I think."

"You think? Though Merlin did mention an odd smell in my room now that I think about it, what would the point of a spell that just make me and Merlin argue."

"Perhaps it was a poultice then and it is true that he did not return home last night. I thought that he was with you, Sire, knowing about the argument makes his absence much more troubling. Perhaps it was to get you to distrust Merlin, so he could be taken, it is well know that you two are close. I can check for signs of sorcery at a later time."

Arthur's reply was interrupted by a sudden squawking and a burst of pink launching itself from the railing above them. The pink landed on Arthur's head and a sudden bout of shouting and squawking and flailing ensued.

"Stop!" Gaius shouted, and instantly Arthur stopped his shouting and the pink demon settled down on Arthurs head.

"What manner of demon is latched onto my skull?"

Gaius chuckled and reached above him, plucking it from his head. It was a chicken, a very pink chicken. It was glaring down Arthur like he had just murdered his entire family. Arthur remembered the chicken he had had for supper and glared right back.

"A farmer stopped by earlier, said that half the chicken farmers he knew were dealing with some colourful chicken this morning. He was worried it might be some kind of disease so he brought me a chicken to look over."

"Is it some disease?"

"No, intriguingly it is not a disease, someone took the time, and wasted a fine sum, and dyed the chickens pink."

The chicken, with it's evil eyes, was bright pink everywhere but the head. Which made sense since they didn't want to drown the chicken. "That does seem like a waste of time." The chicken stuck it head out and jutted its chin before leaping out of Gaius arm and right back on Arthur head. It settled right down.

"It's fond of you Arthur."

"That's great," he mumbled. He reached up to take the chicken down but it pecked his hands with murderous ferocity. He elected to allow the animal to stay on his head for a little. He had bigger things to worry about then pink chickens. "Do you have any idea where Merlin could have-"

He was cut of by another demon squawking and banging about.

"Gaius, you wouldn't happen to have a fancy hangover cure would you? Cause that boy of yours and his new friend out drank me like it was there life mission. I've never seen that servant actually come to the tavern and get drunk, ever, but last night was whoa." The brown haired knight stumbled into the chambers and plunked down into a chair, rubbing his head and squeezing his eyes tight. If a man like him had a hangover, then the possibility Merlin was dead in the gutter just skyrocketed.

Gwaine opened his eyes, staring at the scene before him, or more likely just the chicken. The chicken stared back.

"Am I actually still drunk, or is the prince of Camelot wearing a pink chicken on his head?"


	3. Chapter 2

"So Merlin shows up at the bar in the evening, but he left my chambers first thing in the morning. What did he do before going to the tavern?"

"I don't know Arthur, but maybe if hadn't been such a royal ass he wouldn't be missing now would he!"

"Look Gwaine, I've told you that it was a mistake okay! I just want to find him and tell him that now."

They had been forced to tell Gwaine everything, starting with Killer the pink chicken, who was still perched on Arthurs head glaring at things and such. He had been furious when Arthur had repeated what he said, and completely baffled when he heard how Merlin had been retorting. It wasn't his usual mocking self.

Gaius had given Gwaine something to help with the headache, and true to his super drinker abilities his hangover seemed to start to disappear almost instantly. Arthur could almost swear he heard Gaius mutter something about it taking an hour to kick in.

After Gaius had been picking up potions and packing his medicine bag as they talked. There had been a bout of flu in the lower town and quite a few children required attention daily. He had left the Merlin hunting to them, though the worry had been evident on the old mans face. That had crushed Arthur a little, he knew he was the one who had caused this. He said his good byes and left the two men to figure things out for themselves.

When he was gone Arthur prompted Gwaine to continue his retelling of that knight. "Well he came into the tavern that night looking really tired, and I wanted to invite him over to join me but he was called over by someone else."

"Did you recognize the person."

"No _princess_ , that's why I just called him someone else, I don't think Merlin knew him either because I remember he looked shocked when the man called out. So then Merlin went and sat by him and I turned back to my drinking buddies. I don't know maybe ten minutes later Merlin and the guy walk up and join us. We get to drinking games and it all goes blurry from there; all I know is for a boy who doesn't drink he put me to shame. It was unnatural, I would've sworn he was drinking coloured water but he switched glasses with me and it was ale alright."

"So you get drunk and then what?"

"I don't know, like I said it gets blurry. Next thing I know I'm waking up in a chair some where's and I get out before I remember if it's a good thing or a bad thing."

"That's not exactly helpful!" Arthur cried growing increasingly frustrated. Gwaine had repeated the story at least twice and the guilt that Arthur felt grew larger every time.

"Well we wouldn't be in this problem if it wasn't for you!" Gwaine glared at Arthur, Arthur glared back, Killer glared at a book about common herbs. "Maybe the Inn keeper knows something, we could go ask him. She pays attention to customers who suddenly start drinking heavy, she's a real worrier."

"What is that about anyway. You kept mentioning Merlin like he's never been to a tavern before. He stops there regularly according to some people."

"Merlin? You've got to be joking, once in a blue moon for a mug maybe but this was the first time he ever really drank. You really believed he was a drunk Arthur?"

"Yeah well I got told that a lot."

"Well it's not true, and the bar keep will prove it, plus he might know something more then we do. May as well work together and try and find him quickly. If we're lucky we'll find him nursing a painful reminder of why he shouldn't be like me in some random house in the city. Let's just get out and ask around, Merlin is well liked I'm sure someone saw him, or me, last night."

"Fine. Let's go to the tavern first." Arthur started towards the door and Gwaine cleared his throat.

"What about your duties?"

"The council will manage for a day."

"But are you going with the chicken on your head?" Arthur tentatively raised his hand towards the chicken, it was meet with a harsh peck as soon as he got in range.

"Yes."

Killer squawked angrily at Gwaine for suggesting such a ludicrous idea.

 **Somewhere, Same time**

Merlin finished throwing up and was almost instantly faced with another glass of green drink. This time it was in a normal cup.

"If I keep drinking alcohol I'll die, or pass out, or both. I can't stay drunk forever."

"I know, which is why I'm giving you this." He said thrusting the cup back into Merlin's face.

"I just said," Merlin groaned, he was starting to sober up, "that more drink won't help me."

"It's magic wine Merlin, my own creation. 'sides this trip ain't gonna be any fun alone or with a sober person. So take a shot and let's get going. You'll be having fun for the next five hours or so."

Merlin looked at the drink, somewhere he remembered something about Dion. The drink was thrust even further into his face until the cup was resting on his lip. What ever it was he couldn't remember it clearly and it probably wasn't important. He took the cup and swallowed the liquid. It went down like ale but tasted like banana.

Which was disgusting as it sounded.

He probably would've thrown up if he hadn't spent the last five minutes doing just that.

"How long until it-" Merlin was suddenly cloaked in a warm alcohol induced buzz, he giggled. "Wor's real fassst." He chuckled.

"Ready to start the journey."

"Sure I's am."

They didn't have to walk very far to reach the first step. They both stood side by side, toeing the edge of a huge cliff. It towered over a raging river below.


	4. Chapter 3

**Nowhere in Particular, No Time Anyone's Sober Enough to Note**

"Go faster."

"Merlin, I'm going as fast as I can!"

"Your hurting me Dion."

"Shhh."

"It's to tight!"

"Merlin I'm almost done."

"Ughh, please Dion finish quickly."

"There, I'm done, yeesh." Dion stood back, dusting of his hands and admiring his handiwork. Merlin sat on the ground, tears in his eyes and legs stretched out. Both his feet were snugly tied to smooth grey rocks. The rope looped up his legs numerous times and was tied to two medium sized stones Dion had put holes in. Dion had a similar thing done to his own legs but the rocks were a little bigger because he was taller the Merlin.

"Are you sure we can't just swim down?" Merlin stood with Dion's help and dragged himself unsteadily towards the edge of the bluff. The rocks on his feet dragged behind him and left muddy trenches in the soft ground.

"We have to jump off the cliff and sink to get through the portal. It's the only way. To deep to swim." He dragged his own weights over beside Merlin. They both towered over the river that ran below them. The drop was a sheer one and the river, though fast moving, looked quite shallow.

"I don' think this'll work." Merlin shuffled closer to the edge and leaned his head over. Then the world kind of wobbled for him and suddenly he was toppling over the edge. He drew short at the rocks and almost pulled his ankle out of its socket. But his weight yanked the rocks over the edge and sent him over.

"Merlin!" Dion cried out then and started to reach out for him before he fell off the cliff in the same manor as Merlin. Merlin was to busy trying to fly to bother worrying about him now though. His spell chanting sounded more like ' _gibith huhi oyhargghhhhhhhhhh'_ They both hit the water with painful smacks and sunk like stones into the river that was deeper then an ocean.

 **Camelot Same Time**

"So Mary, Merlin left an hour after I did with his friend."

"I believe the boys name was Dion." The stoutly woman said, she was wiping down the bar as they spoke to her. In her hands were stained ale mugs, the entire tavern stunk of the heavy scent. They had left for the tavern right away and were now getting Mary, the bar keep, to help them.

"Do you know where they went by any chance?"

"You are the second one to ask me that today actually." Mary set the glass she had picked up down thoughtfully, "now I can't remember the lads name but he came in the wee hours. Just after I came in to clean up. I told him we weren't open yet, quite surprised someone planned on drinking this early I do say. And he says that he just wants to know if I've seen a young man with brown hair and green eyes. That was the man who was with Merlin."

"What did you tell him."

"Well same as I'll tell you actually. I kicked them out, the rowdy buggers were getting quiet and figured it would be best if they left before they caused trouble. They hobbled out and further into the lower district. Asking around there might help you." She said before turning away and starting to wipe down the back counter.

Taking it as there cue to leave Arthur and Gwaine thanked her and headed out back to the street. As soon as they went through the door Killer leapt up and into Arthur's arms. He pecked Arthur angrily until he apologized for not letting him come in too.

"We should try and find the guy who was looking for Merlin's friend, Dion." Gwaine thought aloud as he led Arthur through the town.

"But where could they be? If they were that drunk you figured they would've left some kind of trail. Someone should have recognized them. Where shoul-" He was cut off by a scream coming from a nearby shop. With a quick glance to Gwaine they both ran into the shop.

A older woman sat on the ground strewn around her were bottles of various dyes and inks. On the walls were multiple coloured rolls of fabric. "It's been stolen!" she cried out in anguish. On the other side of the room a young man held another blonde one by the throat.

"What is going on here?" Arthur demanded. Killer squawked furiously. The man choking the other dropped the blonde in shock and he fell to the floor gasping for air, he scrambled away on all fours. The woman turned in her spot to face the prince.

"That boy there stole my red dye."

"I," he stopped to get a few more breaths in, "I didn't I just wanted to know if you had seen my brother."

"But you said the boots belonged to you!" The attacker snapped back.

"They do! They do but my brother borrowed them before he left the other day."

"Would you brother happen to be Dion?" Gwaine asked.

"Yes! Have you seen him?"

"No," Arthur answered lowering his guard and relaxing, "but we believe that he is with our missing friend."

"The owner of the third boot?"

"The third boot?" Gwaine asked. The blonde nodded and shakily got to his feet. To the credit of his attacker, he did help him up. Then the blonde walked over to them, and leaned down picked up a boot that they hadn't noticed coming in.

"It's Merlin's." Gwaine inspected the boot, before handing it to Arthur who nodded in a agreement.

"My red dye! Your friends stole my red dye!"

"How do you know this? Merlin isn't the stealing type, I'm sorry." Arthur said, coming to his servants defense.

"We saw them," she hissed, "they ran out the door with the bags of dye dripping red everywhere. Only your Merlin could grab his shoe before Brendin here scared them off."

Arthur was about to fight back when Gwaine poked him in the back. He turned harshly about to call off the knight when Gwaine shoved the boot in his face, tapping the spot that had a few droplets of red dye on it. Arthur sighed, _what the hell was wrong with Merlin._

"I apologize sincerely for my servant. I hope that you will treat this incident with the utmost secrecy. Please send a bill for any loss or damage to the castle." Arthur spun on his heels, leaving before Killer could add his own defensive cluck.

"Hey!" The blonde boy from the shop called out before they had gotten to far. "It seems we have a similar goal, what do you say to working together. I'm Apollo."

"I'm Gwaine and this is Arthur, our most esteemed princess with his pet chicken Killer."

Arthur glared at Gwaine before speaking to Apollo. "You say you're looking for your brother?"

"Yes." The boy said. He was quite handsome in the light, the small purple marks around his throat seemingly the only blemish on his soft pale skin. His hair was a soft blonde and longer then even Gwaines. He wore it up tied in a short ponytail. His clothes showed that he came from some wealth as they had no noticeable tears in it and no stitching. But it wasn't the nicest material or of any noble design. Arthur figured he was the son of a prominent farmer or land owner. He seemed like he could be helpful in the search.

"Do you know what they might've done with the dye?"

"Well I'd say it has something to do with that chicken."

 **Under Water**

He struggled violently for air, blind terror masking the feeling of the weight around his legs. He watched as the sun slowly shrunk, the water above growing darker and darker. He couldn't see Dion.

Suddenly the rock pulling down yanked him hard, and he was pulled down and out of the water. The rock hit against the hard ground with a spark. Merlin smacked into the ground with similar force, he rolled onto his side spitting out a mouthful of water, he didn't even have to say anything as his magic reacted for him and the binds around his legs unwound.

He sat up just in time to see the similarly drowned Dion crash into the ground. Merlin leaned back on his hands gasping in air. He tilted his head up drawing a shaky breath, he found himself mesmerized by the watery ceiling that they had just fallen through. He listened to Dions labored breathing before reaching his hand out to find the other boys shoulder, he patted it softly when he touched it.

"Do you wan' hear a secret?"

"Right now Merlin?" Dion huffed patting Merlins hand before standing up and shaking his head, the rope around his legs unwinding itself as well. Merlin pushed himself to his feet while nodding.

"I have magic!"

"I knew that already." Dion said dismissively, he was already looking for something.

"Then you must die!" Merlin shouted before brandishing his imaginary sword. Dion just casually raised his old crossbow in response.

"Wanna fight boy?" He said before losing an bolt. In Merlins defense there is little an imaginary sword can do in any fight, and bringing one to a crossbow fight wasn't the smartest of ideas. And he was really drunk. The bolt whizzed past his head and his jaw dropped as small trickles of blood started to roll down his cheek. A thin cut forming on his forehead and running just past his ear.

"You shot me! You actually shot me!"

"Oh triple goddess!," Dion rushed over slamming a hand on Merlins temple in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "I though you would catch it!"

" _Catch it!"_ Merlin said incredulously.

"No, not catch per say but block it with magic!" Dion ripped a part of his shirt, still inside out and used it to bandage Merlins head.

"Meanie." Dion rolled his eyes at the childish come back. He opened his mouth to say something when another voice cut in.

"Who might you be, oh courageous adventurers, who are you to challenge to cave of youth?"

Merlin jaw dropped, "Dion your voice changed!"

"It wasn't me it was that frog!" Merlin looked to see what Dion was talking about and was quite surprised to find that it was indeed a frog, riding an armored goat and wearing a tiny crown. Merlin rubbed his eyes bleary.

"I think I need more magic ale." Dion just laughed and handed Merlin a overflowing glass.


End file.
